


Lost November

by drunkraiinbow, GavotteAndGigue



Series: Jason Todd Month 2019 [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drug Addiction, Elemental Magic, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Good Slade Wilson, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, JayRoy Week, JayRoy Week 2019, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Neck Kissing, Overdose, Pining, Rain, Rough Kissing, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkraiinbow/pseuds/drunkraiinbow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/GavotteAndGigue/pseuds/GavotteAndGigue
Summary: You know, every time you're sad or upset, it starts to rain.Jason had always thought Roy was joking, but when Roy succumbs once more to his addiction Jason falls into despair, not realizing that as he falls deeper and deeper into depression, he's drawing not only the storms, but some unexpected attention as well. Deathstroke soon arrives, bringing a thunderstorm with him.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Roy Harper/Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Roy Harper/Slade Wilson
Series: Jason Todd Month 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1433476
Comments: 30
Kudos: 380
Collections: JayRoy Week 2019





	1. Perpetual Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Written for JayRoy Week 2019 Day 1: Fantasy and Sci-Fi and the Jason Todd Month November Prompt: Rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. This is our first collab together (gav's first collab ever) and we had lots of fun coming up with ideas for this. Hope you enjoy!

Jason sat huddled in the cramped patient room chair, watching the heart monitor's steady rhythmic blips. The soft sound of it was almost drowned out by the sound of the rain – the light pitter-patter of droplets that had started earlier in the day was now coming down like a torrential storm. It nearly drowned out ambient sounds coming through from the corridor. If only it could have drowned out the vivid scenes of his memories as well.

Roy lay unconscious in the hospital bed beside him, tubes running out of his face, IV lines running out of his arms. He looked frighteningly pale, and though the doctors and nurses had already done everything they could, Jason still couldn't shake the panic and fear of just how close he had come to losing Roy. 

Not more than a few hours ago, Jason had returned to their shared apartment to find Roy collapsed on the floor, barely breathing, skin cold and clammy, and lying in a pool of vomit. Jason recognized it immediately for what it was—an overdose. He froze for a moment, the image of his dead mother overlaid on his beloved friend, but then Jason managed to rein in his panic. He dialed for an ambulance and immediately began CPR.

He waited outside the ER as the doctors fought to save Roy's life. His fears were only momentarily quelled when what seemed like eons later they pronounced Roy was stable, but Jason's worry returned again when he saw his friend situated in the hospital room. 

He hadn't woken. The doctors said there was nothing more to do. Jason could only wait, and let his thoughts spiral.

How could he have let this happen? He should have seen it coming…

* * *

_ Several weeks earlier_.

"You need to stop, Roy." Jason walked into Roy's workshop, plunking down a waste bin, the discarded needles inside clattered with the force.

"Just leave it, Jaybird." Roy didn't turn around, he just kept tinkering with whatever new weapon he was working on. It looked like some combination of a gun and a flamethrower.

"No, I won't. Not this time," Jason squared himself up and planted his feet. "I've been watching you the last few weeks without saying anything, but it's getting out of hand–"

"I can stop anytime," Roy finally turned around. "I just don't  _ want _ to. Yet."

"You keep telling yourself that," Jason continued to press, "but we both know that's not true. You've been through this once already, don't let it happen twice."

"I won't!" Roy huffed. "Why are we always arguing about this?" 

"Because I don't wanna loose my best friend to fucking drugs!" Jason exclaimed, his volume going up a few notches and surprising them both. Jason consciously dialed it back down, trying to find some way to convey to Roy how much he was worried. He wanted Roy to know this wasn't just him being uptight about it. If he lost Roy….

"You're half the reason I'm still alive," Jason said, softening his voice. A lump had formed in his throat.

"What's the other half?"

"I came back once already. There probably won't be a second time."

He hadn't noticed that he must have dropped his gaze, staring at an invisible point at the dirty walls of Roy's workshop. Whenever he saw his friend falling to the temptation of drugs again, it felt like he was losing a part of himself as well. Roy had been clean for a while now. Almost three years. Thirty-two months. One-hundred-forty-one weeks. Nine-hundred-eighty-seven days and a half before he had rammed a needle in his veins once more. 

It was almost unbearable to watch him getting destroyed by the drugs again, to lose the battle and succumb to old habits. There was a reason why Jason checked their trash on occasion, why he searched for new injection sites on Roy's arms in the middle of the night and why he was barely sleeping since he had found the first needle in the bottom of the garbage. 

What if Roy couldn't get away from his addiction a second time? What if he fell deeper and deeper until there was nothing that could help him anymore, nobody who would be able to catch him before he hit the ground? 

Jason turned back to look Roy in the eyes, "I don't want to give you a hard time, but you're starting to scare me, and I can't just stand by and watch when you're hurting."

There was a soft, steady tapping that started up suddenly, a gentle pattering against the window glass. Outside it had started to rain, and the light droplets seemed to be growing heavier by the second, the onslaught of rain building up to a roar.

Roy stared out the nearby window, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before he schooled his features to neutral. "You know," he said, "every time you're sad or upset, it starts to rain." 

His lips were turned upward in a smile, but it seemed bitter and forced. Roy returned Jason's gaze, some of his stubbornness wilting. "I know you're worried Jaybird, what with making it rain and all," he waved a hand toward the window, "but I'm telling you I'm fine."

"Roy, you're  _ not _ fine," Jason protested, but Roy cut him off.

"I'm fine," Roy insisted. "So just drop it. I'm going out. I've got some things to take care of." He stomped from the room, leaving Jason still holding the waste bin, the used needles glinting forebodingly in the bright workshop lights as the rain built up into a raging storm outside.

* * *

"Has he woken up yet?"

Jason blinked at the familiar voice and tried to focus his sight on the man standing in the doorframe, hair ruffled and wet. He must have dozed off, he figured as he rubbed at his tired eyes. His neck hurt, the wooden chair was even more uncomfortable than a few hours earlier, but Roy's eyes were still closed. 

"He hasn't." 

He could feel the sympathy in Dick's eyes without looking at him and he could gladly have lived without it. Standing up, he stretched his back and massaged his neck, soothing the muscles a bit, before he grabbed the rail at the bottom of Roy's hospital bed to lean on the plastic frame. 

"Kori didn't wanna come?" he asked the other man and listened to the heavy steps of police boots coming closer. The other man was still wearing his dark blue police uniform and the utility belt with his gun. 

"She's not earthside at the moment or she would have come," Dick assured him. "I came as fast as I could, but the captain wouldn't let me go earlier." 

Jason stayed silent. 

Against his better judgement, he had sent messages out to his team, taking a few days off vigilantism. Others had gotten a short report about Roy's condition and that they were welcome to visit. It wasn't a long list. The Titans, Bruce, Dick, Tim, Kori, Clark… even Oliver, who was currently showing off his wealth in Metropolis not an hour's drive away from Gotham.

Tim had texted back immediately, telling him he was currently unavailable but sent his best wishes for Roy and would visit as soon as he could wrap up his mission. Lois had called for Clark, apologizing for a crisis in Japan that kept her husband from coming by himself, but the rest of them had stayed silent. Not even the famous Green Arrow, Roy's former mentor and father figure, had dared to send a single letter in reply. 

Would they call if he had been fighting for his life? Would they have visited? Jason doubted it. 

"I didn't think you'd even come," he confessed quietly and watched Roy's sleeping face. His eyes moved under his eyelids and Jason almost smiled. Roy was dreaming. 

"He's my friend. Of course I did." 

"You're the only one who cared enough to show up," Jason said and looked at Dick, seeing the tiny smile on the acrobat's lips as he offered a cup of coffee. With a short nod, Jason took the cup, taking the first sip. The hot liquid rushed down his throat and the bitter taste cleared the haze of sleep from his mind.

"The League is busy helping the Earth Lanterns and the Titans are on standby in case of an emergency. I'm sure they would've come if they could–" 

"Why are you here then? And why is Oliver Queen getting his dick sucked in Metropolis, clearly not doing anything League-related, and yet he can't come by and visit his goddamn ward?" Jason snapped at Dick, getting louder, before he winced at his own harshness. It wasn't Dick's fault that no one seemed to care.

Dick sighed and put a hand on Jason's shoulder, squeezing him comfortingly. Jason took another sip of the coffee and leaned into the touch just for a second, before he pulled back and turned to look once more at Roy. The monitors beeped steadily.

"Tell me if I can help with anything," Dick ventured. "Roy and I used to hang out often during his first recovery. Maybe I can get to him again."

Jason gritted his teeth and tried to nod, but it was barely visible. A series of protests echoed in his mind as he resisted the urgent need to push Dick out of the room and drown himself in the shower afterwards. 

Wasn't he good enough to take care of Roy once he woke up? Was Roy any worse off with Jason, given Dick had helped him before? He was certain Dick didn't want to make him feel incapable of helping Roy, but that was exactly how he felt. Roy had become addicted before while hanging out with him, and now a second time. Maybe Jason really wasn't able to take care of his family? Maybe it was his fault that it had come to this again?

A crackling voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts,  _ "Grayson, get down here. We need to backup." _

With an apologetic smile, Dick took his police radio and spoke a few words to his partner. 

"Keep me posted," he looked back at Jason, then he waved goodbye and left in a hurry. 

Jason watched him go with a silent nod, feeling the sudden emptiness that Dick's departure brought. Dick could be overbearing and irksome, but he had easily filled the room with his natural charisma and warmth without even trying. That was something Jason had never quite been able to do. At most he seemed to fill the atmosphere with the bleak desolation of rain, if Roy's jokes were to be believed. It was still raining lightly outside. Jason could hear the soft  _ pit pit pit _ of droplets hitting the hospital room window. 

_ Every time you're sad or upset, it starts to rain, _ Roy had said, and it had been raining nearly every day in Gotham as far back as Jason could remember since his return from the dead.

Maybe Dick was better at this after all. Maybe Jason really  _ wasn't _ good enough. Maybe all he was good for was being sad and depressed, a drag on the fiery brilliance that Roy should have been.

He was still sitting by Roy's bedside, stewing on his thoughts, when the telltale sign of a text message buzzed the phone in his pocket. It was from Tim.

_ Need another set of eyes. Inclement weather. Need a six for recon, _ the message read.

It sounded like the Bats were out and about in the storm, and Tim needed more backup. Jason sighed, he didn't want to leave Roy's side, but there wasn't much he could do, and if Tim was reaching out to Jason it was probably important. They could barely stand each other.

Jason cradled Roy's hand in both his own, careful not to jostle the IV lines. After a moment, Jason got up to leave, but not before smoothing Roy's hair from his face. He leaned in, feeling a surge of some unidentifiable emotion, like he wanted to place a soft kiss against his cheek, but he refrained. He'd always felt strongly for Roy… it was a feeling he had never allowed himself to explore though. 

Jason straightened up. "I'll be back. Hang in there buddy." He left a note with the nurse, and then left to gather his gear.

Their shared apartment wasn't far away from the hospital. It was nice and big, recently renovated and with a perfect view of the neighborhood from the tenth floor. A few walls had been replaced by thick windows—bulletproof, Jason had taken care of that—and Roy had loved building in several secret compartments for their gear. They had moved in not long ago. 

A part of Jason was wondering if he had known what would happen, if he had subconsciously took precautions. It was only a short distance to the ER, the room Roy was currently staying in, convenient in case of an overdose.

Jason used the front door to access the apartment and left a few minutes later through the roof, guns loaded with rubber bullets and hidden under his leather jacket. His bike was waiting in the alleyway behind the apartment complex, an old reliable sportbike he used in civilian settings. The rain had let up slightly as he swung his leg over the smooth saddle of the old girl. He turned the key and gripped the handle right before the bike dashed forward. 

Connecting his coms to the secured line the Bats used, he checked in with Red Robin and got the coordinates. It led to an abandoned factory as far as Jason could tell, previously used by Scarecrow for the production of his fear toxin. However, Scarecrow had been caught and was sitting in Arkham Asylum, so if Red Robin was asking for backup, he was after someone else.

Once Jason was in the area surrounding the factory, he parked his bike and used his grappling gun to fly through the night sky. He wasn't as graceful as Dick, but still fast and precise. He had spent hours practicing the controlled swings and jumps and falls before he had become Robin, and later with his team of ex-sidekicks where he had started his partnership with Roy. They had been young, angry and carried so much pain. Then Roy had started with the drugs. Oxycodone first to deal with a bad shoulder before he had gotten his hands on the street stuff—heroine.

Jason blinked against the tears forming in his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to try and focus on the mission at the moment. He swung up to the meet point on a nearby rooftop that Tim had indicated, landing softly behind the other young man. It was still drizzling, and Jason made sure to lighten his footsteps to avoid splashing through the growing puddles as he crouched down beside Tim.

Tim didn't turn as he approached. He was looking through a set of binoculars at the adjacent factory across the road, but he inclined his head slightly at Jason. Then in a hushed voice, "The rain's interfering with my short-range infrared sensors. I don't have time to set up longer range alternates, but Black Mask is moving a large shipment of contraband and I need to know the shipping route. He keeps those files on a hardware wallet in that factory."

"Got your six," Jason nodded. "Ready?"

"Ready," Tim nodded back.

Jason followed Tim across the roadway onto the target factory's roof. They picked the lock on the rooftop access, then made their way downward through the drop ceiling into the mezzanine office. Tim quickly set about searching for the hardware wallet as Jason kept watch on the floor below the mezzanine. 

The warehouse floor consisted mostly of stacked shipping crates. Curious, Jason looked closer at one of them, noting the specs of loose dark dirt that was sprinkled about the floor. Jason knelt down, swiping his finger to pick up the residue on his fingers. Even with his gloves on, he could tell it was grainy, and even without removing his helmet, he knew what it was – coffee grains – often used by smugglers to obscure the smell of heroine from drug sniffing dogs. Black Mask was likely shipping in opium paste hidden in the grinds, the raw ingredient to make heroin.

Jason clenched his fists, grinding his teeth as he thought of what the cost of the illicit substance had done to Roy. His mother. The countless people who had died or had their lives destroyed. Emotion welled up inside him, a feeling of despair and anger roaring loud in his ears that was somehow matched by the escalating downpour of rain outside.

_ You know, every time you're sad or upset, it starts to rain…. _ Roy's words echoed through Jason's memory.

It was true, for the moment at least. The drizzle from earlier had turned into a full blown storm. It was so loud, Jason could barely hear over the torrent of raindrops pounding against the small warehouse. He looked up at the single row of small windows that lined the upper wall, and noticed a glint or red.

Shit. It was a sniper scope.

"Get down!" Jason shouted into the com to Tim just as the window shattered. He cursed at himself. He was so engrossed in wallowing that he hadn't been properly vigilant. Jason ducked behind the stack of crates as another sniper shot pinged against the wall. He had to get back to cover Tim, but the short distance back to the office was too exposed.

"Red Robin, come in," Jason called, trying to contain his concern. "What's your status?"

"I'm okay," Tim buzzed back, "just pinned down by sniper fire."

Jason sighed in relief. "Do you have the hardware?"

"Yes. Can you cover our exit?"

"Copy." Jason launched into a volley of fire toward the direction of the sniper as backed up toward the office. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tim flip up toward the ceiling exit. He caught the edge of the opening, and was about to haul himself up when Jason spotted the signature red dot of a laser scope aimed right for his head.

Jason didn't hesitate. He jumped forward, pushing Tim out of the way and angling to shield any oncoming fire with his own body. At the same time he aimed a straight shot at where he deduced the shooter was hiding. He wasn't able to confirm the shot however, because in the next second something impacted his side, downing him with the blow.

"Hood!" Tim hauled him behind the cover of a desk. "Are you hit?"

There was a burning coming from Jason's side, blood covered his palm when he brought his hand away, but it looked like he had dodged any vital hits, and his armour had deflected most of the impact. "Just a graze," Jason answered.

Tim nodded. "Change of plans then. We exit ground level. I've got a car coming on autopilot."

They huddled behind a cabinet as the high caliber sniper rounds splintered and chipped away at the wood and metal. Jason made to duck out and return fire, only to quickly tuck back behind cover as another bullet pinged against the edge of the cabinet near his head. They had to wait for a clearing, but they were in a poor position, cornered and too exposed. Jason would have to draw fire away to let Tim escape if they were to have any chance of getting out in one piece. He readied and sprung out, gripping a pistol in each hand to return fire, when there was a sudden burst of three distinct shots. Jason ducked and rolled, using a large shelf as a shield and expecting the three shots to blow him apart at any moment, but it never came. He belatedly realized the shots had been distant, reverberating from several buildings away….

There was no more sniper fire. Someone had taken the shooter out, Jason realized, but who? He didn't look a gift horse in the mouth however—their exit was clear—and Jason motioned for Tim to move.

They made it back to the waiting bat car with no further attacks, a minor blessing given that Jason's  _ minor graze _ still hurt like hell. He pushed through it, stumbling into the passenger side as Tim took the wheel.

'We'll be in the cave in twenty minutes," Tim relayed as he gunned the engine onto the streets. 

"I'm not going to the cave," Jason objected.

"You are." Tim stated with finality.

Jason repressed a hiss as he applied pressure to his still bleeding wound. Short of jumping out of the car at a hundred miles per hour, there was nothing Jason could do but go along with it.

* * *

It was a short drive to the cave, not in the least because Tim was driving like a maniac. Jason was pretty sure he had set a new record, and with a family of lunatic vigilantes, that was quite the performance. He tried to escape once they were driving towards the entrance to one of the underground driveways, but Tim shot him a disappointed look as he locked the doors. Jason glared back at him, feeling almost like he missed it when once upon a time Tim had hated him. 

The med bay of the Batcave was next to the gym room and had always been Jason's least favourite place to be. He hated it whenever he ended up on a gurney. It meant something itched or stung or burned, which meant he had to take off his clothes and body armour, which made him feel vulnerable and exposed while Bruce or Alfred or one of the other bat kids took care of his wounds. The concepts of the Red Hood and injury didn't go together in his head. His rep on the streets fostered an image that he was untouchable. Some even casting doubt on if he could even catch a cold.

He balked at the idea of being in the cave with his replacement patching his wounds. "Drop that right now 'cause I'm not gonna let you fuss over a fucking graze," he told Tim as soon as he saw the suture kit in his hands.

"Jason, you really need to treat your injuries to prevent infection," Tim frowned. "B always says–"

"Fuck B! He ignores  _ his _ wounds all the time, until Alfred benches him for a few days."

Tim sighed. "Come on, let me at least look at it, please? I can stitch it faster than if you did it yourself," Tim asked again and stared at him with those big puppy eyes Jason hated so much. 

"... fine." 

Jason carefully peeled back his shirt to expose the wound on his side. It was still seeping, a fresh rivulet of blood dripping as he flexed his obliques. Tim had just started sterile prep to clean and suture the gash when the familiar roar of the batmobile engine echoed through the cave.

Damnit. Bruce was back, probably full of opinions and self-righteous judgement at everything that Jason had done wrong to endanger Jason's precious replacement. Putting up with Bruce wasn't something that Jason could often stand for long even on a good day, and today had certainly not been one of his better days. Being injured made things worse. It made him feel too susceptible to Bruce's disappointment and scrutiny. 

He pushed off the gurney, moving away from Tim and pulling down his shirt to hide his wound. He was just about to exit the med bay when Bruce appeared in the doorway, his cowl pulled back, his face the usual mix of grim and grit after whatever League mission he had just completed.

"What happened?" Bruce blocked his path, eyeing the dark stain of the fabric on the side of Jason's shirt.

"Nothing." Jason sidestepped to move around him, but Bruce put out an arm, barring his exit.

"You're injured. You shouldn't have been out. I saw the message about Roy. You're distracted."

"Maybe I wouldn't have been if more people would have given a shit about Roy. If more people had stepped up to help." He couldn't stop the bitterness creeping into his voice. With all the alien tech and advanced healing resources, neither Bruce nor Ollie could be bothered to find some way to help Roy. There had to be some better way to help with his addiction. There had to be some other way than to let him fight this battle in and out of emergency rooms and under-resourced rehab clinics. 

"It's not that easy," Bruce replied. "He has to  _ want _ help. And you getting yourself injured because your head isn't in the game doesn't help anyone. What if Tim was hurt? What if it was a civilian?"

Jason felt the heat creep up his neck. Bruce was right in a sense. Jason being distracted had endangered them both, and he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself if Tim got hurt in the process, but he wasn't going to admit that. Not to Bruce anyway. "At least I showed up to help," he said instead, "unlike  _ some _ people."

He ducked under Bruce's arm and stomped out of the med bay and into the cave, ignoring the pain in his side. It was just a flesh wound, he would survive it. Roy would patch him up later—but no… he had almost forgotten, too used to having his friend a constant presence that he could rely on. Roy was still in the hospital. He hadn't woken up. 

Jason hopped on one of the spare bikes and sped out of the cave, the world around him suddenly feeling like it was crumbling. Falling apart. Washing away in a flood of painful emotion, much like the heavy rain that had started up again as Jason hit the streets.

It was literally a fucking hurricane by the time he made it to the inner city, the downpour soaking through his jacket, the cold numbing the pain of the gash in his side. If only he could have done the same to the pain in his heart.

Jason parked the bike and grappled up one of the taller buildings in the financial district. This part of town was mostly abandoned at night, the end of business hours driving out the daytime workers back into their cushy suburban homes. With no one around in the small hours, and the raging storm only getting worse, he removed his helmet and domino mask, feeling the wetness and wind of the weather against his bare skin.

The wound in his side started hurting again, a burning heat that contrasted with the icy chill of the rain. He felt lightheaded. When he looked down, he saw the seeping blood had resumed. Shit. The bike ride had probably aggravated it, torn something open.

Jason teetered on the edge of the rooftop he had landed on, before deciding he needed a moment to regather his strength. He sat down, leaning against the bulkhead of a rooftop stairwell, suddenly feeling tired and surprisingly cold.

There was a bright flash that suddenly filled the sky—lightning, followed by the rolling roar of thunder that seemed to rattle the bones of every building within Gotham City. Jason closed his eyes against the sound, and when he opened them again, he thought he saw a flicker of movement. Something oddly bright in the darkness. A blur of something dark, with a hint of orange against the skyline.

Another flash of light filled the sky, and Jason closed his eyes again. His body had started to feel heavy and numb. He kept his eyes closed, letting the heavy drowsiness close in as he succumbed to unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

"What the hell are you doing in my fucking apartment?" Jason exclaimed.

Slade turned around to see Jason was staring at him as he stood at the stove of the open kitchen in the apartment. He watched as Jason struggled to pull himself into a sitting position, leveraging one arm against the back of the couch to support his weight.

Jason looked just about to launch into some vehement tirade, when he suddenly paused, and Slade saw him take note of the steaming pot on the stove. The scent of a freshly-cooked soup had filled the living room, and Jason’s eyes turned to glance at the hand-crafted pie Slade had bought that was sitting on the dinner table, ready to be eaten.

Slade grinned as there was a rumble of something that turned out to be Jason’s stomach complaining in hunger. Jason put his hand over his midsection and flushed in embarrassment, then made to get up, but then realized— _ha!_ —he was naked except for his tight boxer briefs. Jason stayed on the couch, and Slade smirked.

"I'm trying to provide a meal for you,” Slade replied, feeling like this was more amusing than he had anticipated. “Now that your wounds are treated and you're awake again, you need to eat." He didn't even blink as he returned Jason's glare.

"Providing a meal? What the fuck, Wilson?"

Slade snorted. "You had quite a nasty bullet hole in a pretty vulnerable spot, you know. Lost a bit too much blood maybe, and the heavy rain wasn't helping either. You could've died from hypothermia if I hadn't found you."

"Don't expect me to thank you," Jason growled and finally managed to sit up straight. His gaze dropped down to his body again and Slade smiled ironically at the baffled expression that appeared for a short moment on Jason's pretty face. He wasn’t comfortable being undressed apparently.

"Bet those aren’t the manners Daddy-Bats taught you," Slade laughed dryly. "You’d be long dead if it wasn't for me taking out that sniper. Rubber bullets suck, by the way."

He heard Jason give a frustrated groan as he turned to take the pot from the stove and carry it to the dinner table. The table was already set, though Slade had been unimpressed by Jason's poor choice of dishes. Nothing seemed to match, as if he had just randomly stolen plates and cutlery from out of different households in Gotham. He supposed there was a good chance he actually had.

"The sniper in the warehouse earlier?" Jason seemed to have found his voice again. "That was you?"

"Clever boy," Slade grunted.

"Why?” Jason probed, following the line of inquiry like the trained detective that he was. He clearly couldn’t just leave it at that as he added, “What's in it for you?"

"Thought that would be obvious for you, Jason," Slade sighed but kept his face straight as he sat down at the table and pointed at the free seat opposite of himself, a silent invitation. "You. Just you. Let’s just say you’ve sparked an interest."

He watched Jason clench his jaw as Slade made himself comfortable. He poured himself a glass of water and waited. Jason was good at pretending to be gruff and fearless, but Slade saw the insecurity in the other’s eyes as his gaze flickered to a drawer a few feet away. Slade had found a loaded gun hidden there during his initial sweep of the apartment. Jason flicked his eyes away just as quickly, but got up to eventually take a seat, making sure to be within arms reach of the drawer.

Slade spooned out a bowl and set if before Jason, who simply stared at it, still unconvinced of Slade's innocuous intentions.

"Go ahead. Eat," Slade encouraged, and when Jason still hesitated he spooned a portion out for himself and took a mouthful just to prove the soup wasn't poisoned.

Jason tentatively took a sip, keeping his eyes on Slade the whole time, but then he seemed to relax as he savored the flavor.

"I still don't understand what this is, Slade," Jason said, after swallowing another mouthful.

He shrugged in reply to Jason's query, and simply said, "Just eat."

Fortunately, he did without much protest. Good, thought Slade. The kid was eating, but not enough. He stopped after only getting through half the bowl.

A steady pitter-patter of rain began to fall outside, and Slade could feel a crackle of energy bleed out from Jason as he sat idly across the table. The kid himself was completely oblivious to it, but now that Slade was in such close proximity, it was impossible to miss.

He'd felt it the previous night too. Slade had only been passing through Gotham when he felt that same draw of energy in the air—it indicated the weather was influenced by some arbitrary design rather than unadulterated nature. Someone was calling the rain.

It was a _water elemental._ It had to be. That in itself was a rare occurrence in it's own right. Their kind were scarce nowadays, but to have such an elemental exhibiting its influence in an urban center like Gotham was strange indeed.

As the precipitation began, Slade could feel it encroaching on his own domain of _air._ The dampness saturated his senses, and he could feel falling pressure, the scent of ozone, and the charge of ions in the atmosphere. Slade got curious and decided to seek the elemental out.

He hadn't expected to find the source of the disturbance in the middle of a shootout. Even more unexpected was that he was a bat kid, and as far as Slade could tell, completely unaware of his effect on the environment.

Jason was clueless even as he was actively drawing down a torrent of rain. It appeared he did it subconsciously based on his mood, and Slade concluded this wasn't an isolated occurrence, judging by the recent weather reports. Something was up with the kid, but he didn't know what yet. Either way, Jason needed to learn to control it.

Slade turned his thoughts away from the previous night and back to the kid presently sitting before him. It was clear that Jason wasn't going to eat anymore of the soup, Slade pushed a piece of pie at him. Jason gave him another _look,_ but Slade just shrugged again. "You need the calories," he said.

He waited until Jason took several bites, and Slade noted that the rain began to lighten up. Perhaps that meant Jason was feeling better, and Slade felt an unexpected feeling of relief wash through him.

Huh. Slade had originally figured he'd spend enough time to make sure the kid wasn't going to keel over as soon as he left, but the thought now had him feeling somehow unsatisfied. It was time to go though. Slade still had things to do, and Jason looked like he needed more rest. Slade got up from the table.

"Are you leaving?" Jason seemed disappointed.

Slade nodded. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you around."

With that, Slade turned toward the door. _I'll check back in a few days,_ Slade thought to himself. _Just to make sure he isn't dead, then I'll be on my way._

Slade opened the door and left, leaving the kid to stare after him. As he exited the building, the rain once again began to come down hard.

\---

A few days later, the rain still hadn't let up. Slade had stayed in Gotham, waiting to see if the rain would pass, indicating that Jason had come out of his mood, but it never did. Slade got tired of waiting, and he was growing more and more concerned as the skies seemed to only grow darker and darker as the thick, rain-soaked clouds kept coming.

_This was bad_ , Slade thought. Jason had managed to fly under the radar so far, but an elemental unchecked could eventually wreak havoc, bringing attention to their kind in a way that they didn't need, and Jason didn’t even realize he was responsible. Not that it affected Slade directly, after all Gotham was a dump, and Jason was just some stray elemental that had somehow ended up crossing his path. Still, Slade hated to see power like that wasted, and Jason had potential. _A lot_ of potential if he was doing this without even thinking.

_I’ll check on him one more time_ , Slade decided. Maybe he’d knock some sense into the kid, and then he could get out of Gotham satisfied that he’d done what he could.

It wasn’t hard to track Jason down in the end. Now that he knew what he was looking for, all Slade had to do was follow that same crackling charge of energy that he had felt from Jason in his apartment. It was like trailing a scent, and Slade followed it through the rainswept streets, through the alleys and up over the rooftops until he saw Jason standing alone at the ledge of a skyscraper, overlooking the city below.

Slade dropped onto the edge of the roof, purposefully keeping the sound of his footsteps audible. Jason immediately whirled around, his gun drawn and ready, but he dropped it when he saw it was Slade.

"Deathstroke," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to figure out why you're trying to drown yourself and Gotham with you in all this rain," Slade replied. Jason wasn't in costume, and he was completely soaked through. The fabric of the hood he was wearing sagged heavily, shrouding most of his face in shadow. The material of his shirt underneath clung to his skin, and Slade could see the jut of his collarbone and the planes of his chest and abs.

On impulse, Slade stepped closer, and when Jason didn't back away, he reached out and pushed Jason's hood back so he could see more of the younger man's face. He lingered his fingers by Jason's cheek, suddenly feeling the urge to brush Jason's sodden bangs out of his face, but Jason pulled away.

"What are you doing?" Jason looked at him quizzically.

"Just trying to see you face," Slade said simply.

"You've seen my face already."

He had, but Slade wanted to see what kind of mood Jason was in that had him unconsciously summoning a torrential onslaught. Even though he was trying to hide it, Slade could tell Jason was extremely upset about something. He looked tired and a little gaunt, and Slade was willing to bet that if it weren't for the rain, Jason would have tears running down his face.

Slade made up his mind. He hadn't planned on interfering, but he didn't want to see another elemental wasting himself away like this. He reached out and grabbed Jason's face in his hands, and said, "I'm tired of watching you bleed your _element_ all over this city. You're either going to drain yourself dry, or you're going to destroy this city."

"What are you talking about?" Jason looked back at him like Slade was crazy.

"Let me show you." Slade let himself feel the charge of energy that was flowing out from Jason into the storm, and let loose a part of himself that he had been careful to keep under wraps. He let his own _element_ mix into the flow, and it was carried away into the moisture-laden atmosphere, building and building up a current of electricity that spread across the sky.

Slade funneled the energy, letting the tingle of electricity course lightly through his hands until he was sure Jason could feel it—not enough to cause any pain, but enough that it couldn't have been mistaken for anything but something of Slade's deliberate doing. Slade kept his hands clasped around Jason's face until Jason has staring at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. Until the electrical current had reached its breaking point, and then Slade suddenly leaned in and kissed him, crushing their mouths together, Slade probing with his tongue so he could feel the heat deep inside Jason. At the same time, Slade let their two energies collide, an almost violent push-and-pull of forces that was enhanced with the intimate contact.

There was a blinding flash that lit up the sky, a bolt of electricity that reached down from the heavens to strike a pole only a few feet away. Then followed the resounding crack of thunder that was so loud Slade could feel the reverberation in his bones.

Jason felt it too, and he jerked away, "What–, what the hell? Did you do that?"

"Yes," Slade nodded, "and you did too. You're the water. I'm the air. When we work together, we can make thunder."

"What?" Jason still denied it. "You can't just fucking kiss me like that. And that's crazy. I can't do any of that."

"You can, and you are."

Jason shook his head again and backed up from Slade, but then realization seemed to dawn on his face. " _He_ used to say that. He used to tell me, that every time I was sad or upset, it started to rain."

"Who?" Slade asked.

"Roy," Jason replied, but at the mention of the name, Jason broke into a sob.

That was telling. "Whoever this Roy is, he knows," Slade inferred.

"He _knew,"_ Jason was still shaking his head in disbelief. "He tried to tell me… and now it might be too late."

"He's the reason you're upset."

"I couldn't help him." Jason nodded. "I failed him, and then I nearly fucked up a mission. It's my fault."

The winds kicked up at that, and the already heavy rain increased even more. The droplets were pounding down upon them hard, and Slade felt a pull against his element—there was another bright flash that obliterated their vision, followed by the boom of another roll of thunder. Jason was getting even worse, and he was now drawing Slade's element into it too.

Shit. He had to get the kid calmed down.

"Hey, easy," Slade tried to soothe. He dropped his hands down to Jason's shoulders and tugged him forward. "Let's get you inside. You need to settle down before you wreck the city."

Jason was surprisingly compliant as Slade dragged him away, leading him back to his apartment.

\---

Bringing the boy back home was easier than Slade had thought it would be. Maybe it was his exhaustion, maybe the sadness and the cold from the rain that had drenched his clothes—Slade didn't actually care about the reason as long as he got Jason inside his apartment safely.

They entered the apartment complex over the roof. Slade half dragged, half carried Jason down the few stairs to the top floor, putting a hand in Jason's pocket to pull out the boy's keys with little to no protest. He unlocked the door, pushed Jason into the apartment and followed behind, closing the door with a kick of his combat boot as soon as they were both inside.

It only took one look at Jason to see that the young vigilante was chilled to the bone, his teeth would have been chattering if not for the way he clenched his jaw out of sheer stubbornness. He would catch a cold if he didn't get out of his wet clothes, and Slade had a feeling that Jason was too emotionally wrecked to properly process anymore.

So he did what needed to be done and wrapped an arm around Jason's waist, letting the bat lean against his shoulder while he lead him into the bathroom.

"What are you doin'?" Jason mumbled against Slade's armour, eyes unfocused until he found Slade's gaze.

"Trying to stop you knocking on death's door again," Slade snorted and rolled his eyes, dropping the boy on the edge of his tub. "Need help with your clothes or are you gonna be a big boy?"

It wasn't supposed to sound mocking, but Slade defaulted to the tone out of habit. He meant it though when he said Jason needed to get undressed, but the kid was a bit spooked, and he made an effort to be more gentle when he put his fingers under Jason's chin, raising it almost softly to await an answer.

Jason nodded, but his movements were clumsy as he peeled out of his sodden leather jacket. Slade caught it and set it on the floor, but Jason's fingers seemed to give up when he moved to try and open his chest armour. They were probably too numb from the cold.

Slade pursed his lips. Jason's element had drawn a lot of energy from him, and was probably still draining from him right now if the torrential downpour outside was any indication. He had to properly drain the boy before he killed himself in the process. Add to that, if this most recent episode had attracted Slade's attention, others would soon follow. It wouldn't be the first time several governmental agencies would be interested in such power. It was only a matter of time before they tracked down the elemental outbursts to Jason.

All of that had to be addressed soon, but first, Jason needed a hot bath.

"Don't bother, boy," Slade hummed and reached behind Jason to fill the tub with hot water. "You're too wiped from the cold. I'll do it. Hope you're not shy around men."

"Only if you don't stop calling me _boy_ ," Jason grumbled but leaned his head against Slade's shoulder and closed his eyes. The elemental exertion was clearly still drawing down on him. He could barely hold himself upright at this point.

Slade rumbled a deep laugh while his fingers wandered over Jason's side, searching for the mechanism to unlock his armor. "Can't promise that. It fits you, kid."

"That's even worse," Jason groaned.

Slade ignored Jason's protest as he stripped off Jason's armor and the wet undershirt to slowly uncover his frigid body, his skin chilled and clammy. Jason's black tactical pants fell to the ground, followed a few moments later by his utility belt, shin protection and the heavy combat boots.

Slade glanced at Jason's eyes for a second, searching for discomfort when his fingers dug under the waistband of the thin boxers. He didn't see any protest, and he quickly pulled the fabric down to fully strip Jason bare.

Slade tested the water to find it was hot but still tolerable, but Jason had started to shiver even more, and he decided it was time to warm up the boy properly. Holding him by his waist, Slade guided Jason into the tub and pressed him into the water despite the soft whining about the temperature.

When Jason was seated properly, Slade pulled his hands back and took a look at the wet clothes on the floor. He should probably hang them to dry, but then again, he wasn't Jason's butler. The boy could dry them later. Jason probably had a few extra sets of his vigilante costume. At least that was what Slade hoped. A vigilante should be prepared, just like he as a mercenary was.

Slade was about to decide he would leave and make some tea to warm himself up from the inside, when cold fingers touched his hand and made him stop. He turned towards Jason, raising his brows in question.

"Need something, kid?"

It was almost cute how Jason bit his bottom lip and frowned at him before he spoke with the softest voice ever. "You were in the rain with me," he said slowly. "You're soaked under that armour, aren't you?"

That he was, now that he thought about it. Slade nodded, "I am, Detective."

"You’re going to get everything wet. You can…" Jason stopped and looked down at the tub, but pouted when he found it plenty full of his own body mass, "... take a shower in the stall? I wouldn't mind."

Slade considered the offer for a moment. There was a separate shower stall beside the tub, and there was no denying that his suit had been dripping water, wetting his undershirt and everything else underneath. Sure, he had the serum in his blood protecting him from the flu, but it was a dreadful feeling, especially when the fabric stuck to his cold skin with every movement. And Jason was exhausted; the young Bat wouldn't be a threat.

Eventually, Slade nodded. Jason's fingers fell from his hand and let him step back so he could turn around and strip out of his suit, back facing Jason to make sure he wouldn't see the hidden locks on his armour.

Jason snickered in the tub, but Slade only rolled his eyes and pulled the heavy plates off his shoulders, taking the chest armour off before he went to strip out of the suit underneath. More armour on his legs and crotch followed as well as a pair of combat boots before he could strip bare and step out of his suit completely.

A soft whistle made Slade look over his shoulder at Jason, who smiled cheekily.

" _Nice ass_. Giving Grayson some competition."

Slade laughed. "I feel honoured," he replied and turned around. "Let's see if he can still live up to that reputation when he's in his seventies."

With Jason absently nodding, eyes glued on Slade's body, the mercenary stepped into the shower stall next to the bath. He waited until the water wasn't freezing cold anymore before he stepped under the spray and closed his eyes.

Washing away the cold was relaxing.

Within seconds, Slade was enveloped by hot water, gradually warming him up again. The large rain spray on this particular unit was definitely a nice addition, and Slade enjoyed using it for once instead of the hard water pressure his usual shower had. The water running down the drain was clear for once. Slade couldn't remember the last time he hadn't needed to wash blood from his body or out of his hair. He usually didn't care, didn't even notice, but today was different. Today, he was almost glad that he could still see the difference, could still tell that red water wasn't _normal_.

Slade suppressed a sigh and let his head fall back, rubbing his hands over his face.

"You're not masturbating in there, are you?" Jason's voice came through the glass door, soft and sweet and not nearly as snarky as expected.

"Who knows," Slade replied with an audible purr and grabbed a bottle. "Mind if I use your shower gel?"

"Naah, go ahead," Jason said, water splashing as he shifted in the tub, and Slade could hear soft mumbling. "Can't believe Deathstroke's using my shower…. "

Slade didn't say anything, but his lips twitched and curled up in a smile, unable to hold the fond expression back. "You should get used to it, kid. I'm not leaving you without proper training. You need to be able to control your emotions and your powers."

He opened the bottle and poured a generous amount of gel into his palm before he spread it over his body, making sure to clean himself thoroughly.

"Hey, I didn't even know about that until you found me just now. I'm still not really sure what you're talking about," Jason protested. "Nobody ever told me."

"That's why I did," Slade nodded and put the shower gel back, turning on the water again. "I can feel your power running even now, and you're nearly spent. Try to relax and breathe deeply, Jason. In and out."

Jason snorted. "Sounds like meditation."

"It is, in a way. It's supposed to help you concentrate on your own energy."

Jason was quiet. Slade kept his attention on the element surrounding Jason while he finished his shower. He could hear Jason's slow breaths, could feel the power reduce slowly, nestling back into Jason's body to rest again.

When Slade finally stepped out of the shower, Jason's element had almost calmed down.

Slade nodded satisfied. He took a towel off the rack and rubbed dry his hair. When he finished, he wrapped the towel around his waist and took another towel for Jason.

The boy had his eyes closed but blinked at Slade when he heard the mercenary coming closer. A tentative smile appeared on his lips. He sat up, shivering where the air touched his wet skin, and Slade couldn't help but appreciate the way the boy's nipples had gotten perked and hard. Jason was pretty. That hadn't escaped Slade's notice the first time, and he appreciated it even more the second time around.

Slade kneeled beside the bathtub, leaning in close over the rim. He dipped the tips of fingers into the water, and Jason stared back him, a little self consciously this time, as Slade spoke, "At the moment, your power is loose. Its controlling you, not the other way around. Focusing your mind will help you put a leash on it. You need to learn to manage your power, or eventually it's going to kill you."

Jason slowly nodded. "Okay. Let's say I take your word at face value for now. How then? How am I supposed to control something I didn't even realize I was doing?"

"I can show you." Slade skimmed his hand along the surface of the bathwater until he held it hovering in front of Jason's chest, right over his heart. Slade could feel the thrum of energy even without touching him. The boy was strong if he'd been doing this for years without realizing it. Slade had more experience though, and even though it wasn't his element, he could use his own power to channel it. He found the threads of it, running from within Jason and dispersed throughout the air, leading out of the apartment and into the sky. Slade tugged on the threads of energy. He tightened them up, until the power was slowly being drawn back down and into the boy, winding it up like a spool of thread, slowly until he could tuck the last of it away.

Jason shuddered, the water sloshing around him, before he regained his composure and took slow breaths.

"Feel that?" Slade asked.

"Y–, yeah." Jason stuttered, and Slade could tell he was trying to keep it together. Drawing that sort of power back in was difficult, and it would feel like an enormous pressure trying to escape until Jason learned how to handle it on his own.

"You have to stay calm." Slade moved his hand to grip the boy's shoulder, feeling surprisingly pleased that the boy didn't pull away. "I can help you keep a lid on it, but let's get you dried off and into bed."

Slade hooked his hand under Jason's bicep, lifting him to stand, but the boy teetered, still too exhausted and overwhelmed from the influx of energy to properly balance. He fell forward, catching himself with a hand on Slade's shoulder.

"S- shit. Sorry," he mumbled, embarrassed.

"It's all right." Slade kept a hand under Jason's arm, pulling him close, not in the least bit ashamed to admit that he enjoyed the warm press of the boy's bare skin against his own. He could feel the power surging just under the surface like this too. Slade paused, using his other hand to trace along the boy's jaw and tilt his chin up. "Skin-to-skin contact will help me channel the energy. Keep it under control."

To illustrate, Slade pulled Jason closer, pressing their chests together so Slade could run his hands along his back. He focused on the energy thrumming within, countering it with some of his own to keep it contained.

Jason sighed in response. No doubt he could immediately feel some of the pressure ease as he tucked his head down, leaning his forehead against the crook of Slade's shoulder.

"That's it," Slade crooned. "Let's get you settled."

He wrapped a towel around Jason, quickly rubbing dry his hair, and then guided him from the bathroom and into his bedroom. Slade pulled back the covers and pressed Jason down onto the bed, tossing the towels aside then climbing in behind him.

"What are you–," Jason started, but Slade shushed him with a finger to his lips.

"Like I said, skin-to-skin makes for better control. I need contact to siphon off some of this energy," Slade explained, which wasn't _exactly_ true. An elemental of his skills could probably do this from across the room, but having his hands on Jason did make things easier, and having the boy completely nude and pressed against him made it far more pleasant.

Jason hesitated, sucking in rapid breaths as his rising anxiety caused some of the recently drawn-in _element_ to spill out. Slade felt the force of it extruding in waves, like a cold winter chill wafting over his skin. He grabbed both of Jason's hands and pressed them to his chest. "Easy now. You've got to stay calm. Come on, follow my breathing."

Slade took slow measured breaths, letting Jason feel the rise and fall of his chest, the steady beat of his heart. At first Slade thought Jason would refuse, the frown cast upon his face shadowed in suspicion and skepticism, but then Slade began slowing drawing down some of Jason's wild energy, and after a few seconds Jason screwed his eyes shut and mimicked Slade's slow, rhythmic breaths. They went on like that for a while, Slade taking the edge off by dispersing excess power to a level Jason could manage, until finally Slade could feel Jason pull back his element from the brim. The tension in Jason's muscles relaxed and his pulse moderated to a restful beat.

"That's good," Slade soothed, stroking a hand along the boy's cheek. "You're doing good."

Jason blinked his eyes open, he looked half dazed and thoroughly fatigued. Learning elemental restraint could do that to you, especially when power was let loose for so long, and it left Jason looking raw and vulnerable. It tugged at something inside Slade, and maybe siphoning off so much power had loosened some of his own control too, but Slade found himself leaning in on impulse, tilting Jason's face upward with his hand so that he could cover the boy's mouth with a kiss. Jason opened up to him, and Slade languidly traced his tongue over the other's lips, probing deeper into his mouth with his tongue before drawing back.

Kissing Jason had felt good. It had felt right, but they were both worn out from the night, and Slade found he didn't want to push Jason anymore than he already had. He curled an arm over Jason, reaching to run his fingers through Jason's hair and pull him forward so that he rested on Slade's shoulder.

"Get some sleep," Slade murmured into Jason's ear. "I've got you. I'll keep everything under control."

Jason curled into him, closing his eyes as he drifted into slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

Roy awakened to the feel of someone holding his hand. It felt warm and reassuring despite the rough calluses that covered the fingers and palms. He knew the feel of the hand, because it belonged to someone who he knew well. He had watched those hands day in and day out for a long time, doing everything from wielding a pair of pistols to baking bread. It was Jason. He knew even before opening his eyes, and when he did, it was confirmed.

Jason looked down at him from where he sat close to the bed in a chair. He smiled warmly when he saw Roy was awake. "Hey," he said. "Welcome back."

Roy tried to return a weak smile, but underneath the genuine joy and relief spread across Jason's face, Roy saw an undercurrent of something else. Sadness. Worry. Maybe even regret. Emotions that Roy himself had put there, causing immeasurable pain to the person who had been the main fixture in his life the last couple years. The guilt of it was a weight that pulled away any pretense of mirth Roy would have put on to try and convince Jason he was fine. After all, he was lying in what looked like a hospital bed, IV lines and monitors connected to his body. It told the same story that Roy had lived before time and again: He had overdosed. He had fucked up.

"Roy?" Jason was looking at him full of concern.

This time Roy forced himself to plaster on a smirk. "I'm fine, Jaybird. When can we blow this joint?"

That seemed enough to placate some of Jason's worry, and some of the light returned to his features. Roy felt a little lighter too, it wasn't much, but anything that brought Jason even a little bit out of his perpetually dark moods was always good. Even if Roy himself was the source of some of that darkness. Jason deserved to be in the light. That was one of the reasons Roy had been drawn to him in the first place—because Roy's light and color played beautifully over the depth of Jason's water—when they were both balanced, their elements were in harmony.

At least that's what should have been, but Roy struggled. His element, _light,_ could be inconsistent, waxing and waning more like the dark of the moon than the brightness of the sun. It worsened as he saw that same struggle reflected in Jason's element of water, in how the balance continued to dip into despair, causing Jason to perpetually draw down his power without even knowing he was doing it. He lived life carelessly. He took risks he shouldn't, and Roy wasn't enough to keep him centered, and the imbalance caused them both to spiral. His own addiction and deficits of control had brought Jason down, and yet Jason had continued to stick by him, not leaving Roy's side more than a few moments over the next few days until he was discharged. Waking up to Jason beside him was more than Roy deserved.

Jason helped him with the paperwork as they were leaving, gathering up and signing off on papers the discharge nurse handed them—referrals to rehab, information on support groups and treatment centers, signatures on hospital bills, and signatures on forms that had boldly printed the words: Against medical advice. Jason took care of everything, and then they were in a car, with Jason at the wheel driving them home.

Roy drifted through it, feeling numb and anxious at the same time. He looked over at Jason, who'd been mostly silent as he navigated through the maze of streets. It was only mid-afternoon, but the clouds were thick overhead, filtering out most of the sunlight and leaving Gotham half in shadow. It was starting to drizzle, and Roy saw that Jason was pulling down his element again.

"Making it rain again, my dude," Roy half joked.

Jason didn't smile. He just looked all the more grim, clenching his jaw and gripping the wheel tighter. "Roy," he said, somewhat nervously, "I have to tell you something before we get home."

A feeling of dread suddenly gripped Roy's heart, but he managed to keep the reins on it to not let it show. Instead, he faked an easygoing posture and tried to make another joke of it, "Okay, who else came back from the dead this time?"

"Um… no. That's not it." Jason didn't seem amused at all. He was a lot more serious than Roy expected. Normally they'd both play off each other's need for denial, but this time Jason was oddly humorless.

He pulled the car over to the side of the road, and _shit,_ Roy thought. It must really be serious if Jason didn't even want to be driving when he told Roy whatever it was that was on his mind.

"Jaybird, everything alright?" Roy was starting to grow uneasy.

"Yeah. It's just… you're probably not going to like it, but I'm seeing someone." The rain started to come down harder, pattering against the windshield in a rolling thrum of droplets.

"Seeing someone?" A strange feeling, gnarled and twisted up like a pit, started forming in Roy's stomach. The thought of Jason dating seemed devastating for some reason. A part of Roy had always thought—had always _hoped_ —that someday when they both got their acts together, that Jason would be _his._ That someday when Roy kicked the habit forever, he could finally tell Jason how he really felt, but now… Jason was _seeing someone._

"It hasn't been that long," Jason explained, "but he uh… moved in while you were, you know, out."

"Oh." Roy struggled to find a response that didn't give away how tumultuous he felt. He hadn't been in a coma for _that_ long, and suddenly Jason had found a boyfriend who he trusted enough to move in with him? It felt like a betrayal on some level, like Roy had been replaced, but he kept his voice light and as upbeat as he could fake it. "That's cool. I'm not mad. Why would I be mad? I'm happy for you. So, um, who's the lucky guy?"

"You'll meet him when we get back, but don't freak out okay?" Jason looked at him, dead serious. "Promise me you won't freak out and like, try to attack him."

"Whoa, Jay," Roy said in alarm. "I don't like the sound of this."

"I know. That's why I'm telling you now." Jason took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Look, I _know_ now about the elements. About the rain. He told me about us."

"Us?" Roy frowned at him. He hadn't ever told Jason about their nature because he didn't think he was ready. Roy had barely been able to keep a lid on his own element once he learned of it, and the awareness had actually sent him even more out of control. He didn't want the same thing to happen to Jason, so he'd siphoned off as much extra energy from Jason whenever he could, keeping him in the dark until Roy was sure he could help Jason through the discovery of his water elemental powers. However, as time dragged on, Roy never felt ready, and he was realizing maybe he had done Jason a terrible disservice.

"He's one of us too," Jason added. "He's teaching me how to control it. Watch."

Jason took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He began a slow rhythmic breathing, holding his hand out, palm up, as if ready to grab something out of the air. At first nothing happened, but then Roy felt it. A prickle at the back of his neck that told him elemental energy was swirling around him. He could feel it radiating from Jason in slow waves, much like it often did when he was upset, but this time he could feel the directional flow of it. Jason was calling it back in. He slowly closed his palm as he channeled the energy through him and dissipated it back out into the atmosphere.

When he opened his eyes again, it had stopped raining.

“Holy shit,” Roy stared, dumbfounded.

“I know right? I told you, he’s been teaching me.” Jason was smiling at him this time, an inner joy breaking through the darkness. Whoever his new boyfriend was, he was bringing a light out in Jason that Roy had rarely seen.

Roy brightened at seeing Jason’s newfound contentment, but it felt bittersweet. Nevertheless, he kept his words optimistic. “Wow, Jay. I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time. I’ve got to meet this guy.”

“You’ll meet him soon,” Jason nodded. “Just promise you won’t attack him, okay?”

Roy hesitated, but he promised anyway. “Okay. No fighting. I promise.”

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me!" Roy stood, mouth agape, just inside the entryway of their apartment. If he had his bow, or any sort of projectile in hand, he would have been aiming it straight at the white-haired man who was leaning casually against the kitchen counter. As it was, there were no weapons within reach, and Jason was standing between them with his hands up in staying motion.

"You promised you wouldn't attack him, Roy," Jason tried to put a placating hand on Roy's shoulder, but Roy swatted it away.

"That was before I knew that your new boyfriend is _Deathstroke."_ Roy was practically shrieking. "Deathstroke, Jason! Does 'the world's deadliest assassin' ring any bells?"

"Just take it easy," Jason moved Roy to sit on the couch. "He's, uh, not killing anyone at the moment. I don't think."

"Did he do something to you? Is this some kind of weird mind control?"

"No. Nothing like that.” Jason was looking at him earnestly, and Roy could tell that he desperately wanted Roy to accept this. “Just give it a few days before you jump to conclusions? You’ll see. He’s helping me, Roy. When you were _out,_ he kept me together. Please?”

Roy was still wary, but he finally conceded. “Okay, but if I see him doing anything to you, I’m pulling you out, Jay.”

“I know, Roy. I know you have my back. That’s why I feel safe with both of you here.” Jason squeezed his shoulder. It was familiar. It was friendly, but some part of Roy felt stricken that he’d missed the opportunity for it to be more. There was nothing more he could do now, except wait and see how things would play out.

Over the next several days, Roy watched them move through their routines about the apartment. Jason was usually the one making breakfast for everyone in the morning, with Slade the one who usually cleaned up. They touched a lot, Slade often brushing a hand over the small of Jason's back as he passed by, tilting Jason's chin up to place a quick kiss on his lips, or holding Jason's hands in his own when Slade was helping him rein in an unexpected outsurge of elemental power.

Jason in turn often leaned against Slade when they were watching TV on the couch, or had his feet draped over Slade's lap as he was reading, and sometimes when Slade just looked at him, Jason brightened up again with that smile. Roy felt it through his element—like a light switching on suddenly in the room.

Roy couldn't help but admit that they seemed to fit naturally together, and after those first few days the wariness faded, only to be replaced with a mild envy. Once upon a time it was Roy that Jason naturally looked to, but it didn't feel like Jason needed Roy to watch over him anymore. With Slade helping Jason train, Roy didn't even need to siphon off any surplus elemental energy like he did before. He suddenly felt like an outsider in his own home. A feeling of uselessness clung to him, invading his psyche and refusing to let go, and Roy found himself battling the urge to fall back on old habits and _use_ even more.

That was when Slade took notice.

Slade caught him alone one day when Jason was out. Roy had been puttering around the apartment, feeling anxious and jittery because more than anything he was jonesing for a high. His element was flaring too, so much that a lightbulb burst as he passed walked by. He had just been contemplating heading out the door and finding one of his old dealers as it happened. The shattering glass was enough to momentarily shock him out of his need for a fix, and Roy focused on trying to rein in the spiraling energy, when he noticed that it was already being subtly drained away. He turned around to find Slade standing behind him, arms crossed and looking peeved.

“Going somewhere?” Slade arched the brow over his one good eye.

“None of your business,” Roy snapped. “And quit pulling my element. I don’t need your help!”

“Don’t you?” Slade stepped closer, and before Roy could twist away, he grabbed Roy by the wrist. Roy tried to jerk away, but Slade held fast, and surprisingly, after the initial outrage passed Roy felt himself calming as his excess element was quickly cleared. Roy felt calmer, his need for a fix subsiding until it felt like an afterthought. Slade released him, and Roy quickly drew his hand close to his chest.

“How… how did you do that?” Roy still felt irked at Slade’s audacity, but he’d never been able to disperse excess energy so quickly before.

“I could show you,” Slade had stepped back and crossed his arms again. “Your problem is you’ve got the concept but none of the control with your element. That lack of control is bleeding into other parts of your life. You’ve been taking on more than you can chew—like you used to with Jason. Don’t try to deny it. I know.”

“So what? He needed help. I wasn’t going to let him drain himself dry.”

“But at what cost to you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Roy said indignantly. “I’m willing to do what it takes.”

“Really?” Slade reached out again to nudge a finger under Roy’s chin. “Even if it costs you your life? That just leaves a window open for someone else to step in, like me. I can tell you care a lot about Jason. Maybe even in a way that’s more than what you let on.”

Roy swatted his hand away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Slade just gave him a knowing look. “People like us have to be careful. We can’t overpower each other with our elements or it could reek disaster on the environment and attract attention we don’t want. We can’t let it get out of control. Not only can you drain yourself dry, but the imbalance can throw another element off balance. If you’re going to stay here, we’re going to have to do something about your element too.”

Roy backed up defensively. “What are you proposing?”

“That I help the both of you with control. Having a better handle on your element will probably help you manage your addiction too.” Slade’s voice was low and gravely, but carefully neutral.

Roy wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “If I agree, what would you get out of it?”

Slade smirked. “Let’s just say I’m getting a lot out of this already, and maybe I’m interested in an opportunity to get more.”

A confusing mix of embarrassment and nervousness bounced through his synapses. “Wha-whatever, man.” Roy tried to sound nonchalant, but Slade was throwing him off kilter. He was turning out not at all to be what Roy had been expecting. Whatever Slade was getting at though, Roy would figure it out later. The urge to get a fix was returning, and Roy grabbed his wallet and keys and marched out the door before Slade could stop him.

It wasn’t hard to find a dealer if one knew where to look, and this was an old familiar road that Roy had gone down many times before. Within an hour he had extracted two twenties at an ATM from an account that Jason didn’t know about, then exchanged it for a bundle of heroin in the back alley behind the supermarket. He stuffed it into his pocket, then stopped by the Main Street clinic to pick up a few syringes and headed home.

Slade was still there when he got back, sitting on the couch running a cloth over the sharp edge of his sword. He didn’t look up as he said, “I think you should flush whatever you have in your pocket down the toilet. Right now.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Roy replied and headed for his room.

“I’m pretty sure Jason’s going to know exactly what I’m talking about when he finds you drowning in your own vomit on the floor.”

Roy paused mid-step. “I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s probably what you said last time.” Slade got up from the couch and approached him. “You have to make a choice, Roy. You can let me pick up pieces again when Jason finds out you’re using, or you can show him you’re a better man than this.”

Roy hesitated as he thought about Jason, how disappointed he’d be, how much he’d already let him down, and how much Jason had been there for him when no one else was. “I… I don’t know what to do,” the words stuck in Roy’s throat.

“Come with me.” Slade put a firm hand on his shoulder and guided him down the hall and into the bathroom. He flipped the light on and pushed Roy toward the end of the toilet. Then he stood there. Waiting.

Roy pulled out the bundle from his pocket, hands shaking. He wanted to feel that familiar warmth in his veins, he wanted to be carefree, he wanted to drift through a fog of blissful peace. Except he also didn’t want to disappoint Jason… and maybe that was more important.

He opened the packet of heroin, and, after a last glance at Slade and a reassuring nod of the mercenary, dumped it into the toilet and quickly flushed.

An odd mix of regret and relief washed over him, but before he could process it, Slade wrapped his arms around him, pulling him to his chest.

“You did good, son,” Slade said, and Roy could feel the rumble of Slade’s voice echo through him.

“Whatever,” Roy murmured, cheeks suddenly burning at Slade's words. He found himself basking at the praise, a feeling of warmth blooming through him. He didn't dare to speak again, afraid his voice would break.

Slade didn't seem to mind. The elder man chuckled deeply, then planted a brief kiss on Roy’s forehead, so light that Roy was sure he had only imagined it. “You'll thank me later, don't worry.”

Then Slade pulled him closer to his chest, making Roy feel the full encompassing heat radiating from Slade's body, a subtle hint that betrayed his hidden power, strong and dangerous, but controlled too.

Roy could feel the wall he had built up a long time ago slowly crumble. And for the second time in his life, he opened up to another man, leaning into the embrace and wrapping his arms around Slade to hold onto him. He needed this, needed the comfort and the warmth Slade was offering him so selflessly. Roy sucked it all up like a dry sponge.

With a soft noise, he buried his face in the crook of Slade's neck, inhaling the pleasant smell of his cologne and closing his eyes. His heart was fluttering in his chest, and he sighed as a heady feeling settled over him like cotton wool. It felt good like this. Too good. It wasn't a feeling he felt very often, and it usually happened in his weaker moments when he was pining over _Jason._

Shit, Roy thought. He was attracted to Slade.

He reflexively stiffened and pulled away, looking down awkwardly, trying not to meet Slade's eye. "Um, uh... sorry," he stammered. "I shouldn't have… with you and Jay and all… I mean. Yeah."

Slade reached out to gently tilt up Roy's chin, giving him a knowing look as they made eye contact. "It's okay," the rolling purr of his voice sent shivers down Roy's spine. "I know how you feel about him."

That wasn't exactly what Roy had expected. How did Slade know, when even Roy had trouble admitting it to himself? He was… _in love_ with Jason. And he was attracted to Slade too. Was that normal? Roy wasn't sure. He just felt confused.

"No… it's not okay," he said. "I won't hurt Jason. Not like that."

That brought a quirk to the corner of Slade's mouth. "I said I know. Trust me. You just focus on staying clean and this'll work out. You have my word on that."

Slade stepped close again, and Roy froze as the taller man leaned down slowly, drawing closer and closer until he pressed his lips to Roy's. He lingered for several seconds before breaking the kiss, but he didn't pull away. Instead he leaned further in to whisper into Roy's ear.

"Come to me anytime you feel the urge to use." The warm puffs of Slade's breath tickled Roy's neck. "If you want Jason...if you want _me,_ you're gonna have to stay clean."

Slade stepped back, his gaze somehow both stern and sympathetic, then turned and left the room.

Roy watched him go, feeling both reassured and more confused than ever.

* * *

He expected things to be awkward after that, but to Roy's surprise things seemed to settle back into the previous cadence pretty quickly. Slade continued to work with Jason on his element, and Roy watched as they grew even closer. Every time they touched it was like there was a charge in the air, their elements so intimate now that the energy was constantly flowing back and forth between them. Slade had his hands on Jason constantly too, and though Jason blushed like a schoolgirl if Slade groped him while Roy was around, Slade seemed to take delight in making a show of it.

Roy caught sight of them one time, Slade lounging on the couch with Jason asleep, head cradled in his lap. Jason didn't stir when Roy stepped into the room, but Slade was awake, throwing Roy an infuriating smirk. Slade let his hand drift down to Jason's shirt as Roy watched, pushing up the hem to reveal a sliver of Jason’s abs, then reversing the direction of his hand so he was pushing under the waistband of Jason's sweats.

"My offer still stands, you know," Slade said casually, even as he was obviously stroking Jason under his pants. Jason moaned and squirmed under Slade's ministrations, but didn't awaken.

“You can come to me if you need to," Slade continued. "Stay clean and maybe things’ll work out for you.”

“Err, yeah.” Roy backed out of the room. “I’ll think about it.”

He actually did think about it too. Maybe it was seeing Slade and Jason so intimate, maybe it was the fact that there was so much elemental energy going around that it had started to pull on Roy’s own like a magnet, but he felt his control slipping not a day later. It sent him spiraling, his element leaking like a sieve, threatening to burst if he didn’t get it under control. It had him feeling the urge to drown it all away with a heroin high once more. The itch to hike out into Gotham’s urban jungle to hunt down a fix grew until it seemed to latch onto every thought like some kind of parasite—draining his resolve until Roy was a nervous tick away from breaking down.

Jason was conveniently out when Roy found himself approaching Slade. He was sitting leisurely at the dining table, reading what looked to be a book borrowed from Jason’s library. Slade set down the book as Roy pulled out a chair and sat beside him, feeling jittery and tense.

“Can you do that thing again?” Roy asked nervously. He hated having to stoop to asking for help, but the light in the apartment had started to flicker. The more he yearned for a fix, the more his light element went haywire, which in turn had him craving a high even more. He needed something, or rather _someone_ to bring him back down, and the only someone who was capable and available was Slade.

A sly smile spread across Slade's lips. He scooted his chair closer and reached a hand out.

Roy shied away. "Can't you do it from over there?" He remembered last time Slade had siphoned off the bulk of his energy from across the room.

"Not if you want me to realign your elemental currents," Slade replied. "You're all over the map right now. I can take the steam off the top but you're still going to be boiling over."

It sounded logical, but Roy still hesitated. Slade seemed to be doing good by Jason so far, but there was still a part of him that didn't fully trust the mercenary.

After a long pause, Slade took Roy's hesitation as a refusal. "Fine. Suit yourself," he said, and moved to pick up the discarded book.

"Wait!" Roy could still feel the energy within him surging. It was either this or going out to find a hit. "Okay. Do it," he said.

Slade gave him a smug look, but he did as Roy asked. He reached out, this time with both hands and cupped his face.

Roy felt it immediately. The storm of elemental energy within him immediately subsided. Then he felt a strange shifting within, and the swirling flow within him suddenly began to harmonize. The tangled mess began to aline, and after what felt like several long minutes, the energy began to flow smoothly. Now that it had been done, Roy could feel the difference. He felt more centered, less chaotic, and the anxiety he'd been battling quieted and dispelled.

"Do you feel it now?" Slade stroked a thumb at the corner of Roy's mouth.

Roy nodded.

"You should have come to me sooner." Slade leaned in close so that his face was mere inches away from Roy's. He could feel the heat of Slade's hands as he continued to hold Roy's face. Slade held him still, looking into Roy's green eyes with his single blue one.

Roy found himself licking his lips, tracing over Slade's chiseled features, remembering how his lips had felt soft amidst the scratch of his stubble.

But then Slade let go of his face and eased back into his chair. He had that teasing curl at the corner of his mouth again as he said, "I'll take care of you, Roy. You just need to come and ask."

"Uh, okay." Roy wasn't really sure what to say, so he left it at that.

* * *

Weeks passed, and Roy did end up going back to Slade. Several times, actually, and before he knew it Roy realized he'd been clean for longer than he'd been in months. Maybe even years.

Roy wasn't sure what to think about that, but Jason was thrilled. He even surprised Roy at the two month mark by baking a cake. Roy was grateful, he would have kissed Jason for it—for putting up with him for so long, for believing in him, for never giving up on him like so many others had—except there was a slight problem. Jason was still with Slade.

Not that Roy wasn't ungrateful. Things were going well because Slade had done exactly what he said he would do. He helped teach Roy to control his element, just like he'd done with Jason, and Roy was feeling better than he'd ever had in a long while. He even picked up his bow again, accompanying Jason on several patrols.

It was just that Roy was feeling incredibly conflicted. He still wanted Jason more than anything, but he was finding himself more and more attracted to Slade too. It left him hot and bothered everytime he happened to witness the two of them touching each other, which happened all the freaking time. Slade had no problem displaying their intimacy, and unless he was outright fondling Jason out in the open, Jason welcomed the affectionate touches.

Without an outlet of his own, the constant sexual frustration was starting to drive him up the wall. He had to do something about this, but he wasn't sure what. So he turned to the one person not involved who might listen to him: Dick.

Roy joined him on patrol one night. Jason had been a little put out that he hadn't been invited, but Roy gave the excuse that he owed Dick some one-on-one time for visiting him in the hospital. Jason reluctantly acquiesced, and Roy found himself crouching on a rooftop, staking out a drug exchange in Gotham's warehouse district.

"So, Jason's been seeing someone," Roy ventured cautiously. Jason had made him promise he wouldn't mention Slade by name, but getting Dick's take on things was the main reason Roy wanted to talk to Dick alone. "Has he mentioned anything to you?"

Dick shook his head, but he scooted closer, keenly interested in what he probably assumed was gossip. "Who is it? What are they like?"

"I wasn't sure at first. He's not what I expected. I thought he was bad news at the start, but I think he's actually been okay with Jason," Roy admitted. He'd been watching Slade carefully too, and so far if anything Jason actually seemed happy. It hadn't rained much lately, which was definitely a good sign. "He's been helping Jason," Roy added. "A lot. And I guess in a way he's been helping me too."

"Oh?" Dick waggled a brow. "What does it mean when you say _helping?"_

Roy smacked Dick on the arm. "I mean with my addiction. He's been helping me stay grounded."

"Really? That's great!" Dick clapped him on the arm, but when Roy didn't immediately share his enthusiasm he added, "I sense there's a 'but' though."

"Yeah. But I guess…," Roy swallowed. He'd never told anyone this before, and in many respects he was more comfortable repressing how he felt than expressing it. It was probably one of the main reasons he had succumbed to addiction in the first place, but if he was going to bare his soul to anyone, other than Jason, there wasn't anyone he trusted more than Dick.

Roy took a breath and started again, "I guess with Jason, I always thought that the person he'd end up with would be _me._ Once I got myself sorted out that is, but this new guy… I think he's good for Jason. I think he's good for _us._ I'm not sure if that makes sense… because I'm not sure how I fit in anymore."

"The way you fit with Jason hasn't changed. I'm sure of that." Dick put his arm around Roy, drawing him in and giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. "Have you talked to Jason about this? He cares a lot about you… maybe you'd be surprised how he feels about it."

"Maybe," Roy tried to let the idea sink in, but he still wasn't sure. Did Jason return his feelings too? Would he jeopardize his friendship if he brought it up?

"What about the new guy? You didn't tell me his name, but do you think he'd be open to… exploring something a little more _open?"_ Dick emphasized with a teasing brow and quirk of his lips.

Roy thought about it. He remembered how Slade had gently kissed his forehead that first time he'd guided him to flush the drugs. How he'd kissed him again afterwards on the lips. He hadn't told Jason about that, too afraid that he'd be angry, but judging by the way Slade seemed to make an active effort at public displays of affection whenever Roy was around, Slade was definitely interested in more than _exploring._

"Yeah," Roy finally said. "He'd totally be open to it."

"Well, think about it some more, but talk to Jason," Dick reassured. "He'll listen. You mean a lot to him, Roy. Maybe more than you know."

* * *

Roy took Dick's advice. He thought about it. He couldn't _stop_ thinking about it. He thought about how well he and Jason could meld together, their elements at play, like when light danced like sparkles over softly undulating waves. He thought about how his refraction against the molecules of Slade's air could bring out brilliant colors at dusk. He thought about how if they worked together, they could even make a rainbow….

The thoughts bounced and ricocheted and spun through his mind for days and days, but he couldn't quite figure out how to broach the subject.

So he didn't.

He just sort of hung around like he normally did, trying to act casual and not at all anxious or freaked out about what he was feeling. Jason was perceptive though. After dinner one day he left Slade to clean up and caught Roy as he was making an exit toward his room.

"Hey," Jason called out and hooked his hand around Roy's elbow. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah sure. Why wouldn't everything be?" Roy tried to perk up, drumming up a little light to brighten his too-tight smile.

"I dunno, you just seemed a little off ever since you went out that night with Dick." Jason released Roy's arm, but he stayed close, brows knotted in concern. "Did something happen with you two?"

"No!" Roy said quickly, then tried to consciously relax into his normal lackadaisical attitude. "We just talked. I got something off my chest, and I guess I've just been thinking."

"Oh." The word hung in the air awkwardly. Jason looked… hurt? "You know you can talk to me too, right?" He added. "Just because I'm with Slade, it doesn't mean what we had… you know… it didn't just go away."

"I know, Jay." The smile Roy gave him was genuine this time.

"So, uh," it was Jason who seemed nervous now, "maybe you should watch a movie with us?"

Jason looked hopeful, and Roy couldn't find it in himself to say no. A few minutes later he found himself sandwiched between Slade and Jason, watching some black and white French movie called _Bande à part_ that had Jason completely enraptured. There was a cute girl and a fun dance scene, but other than that it seemed like not much was happening.

Forty minutes later Jason was still staring fixedly at the screen, but Slade had started checking his phone and Roy felt himself nodding off. He felt his eyes droop closed as he let his head fall over Jason's shoulder, drifting off to sleep with the feeling of solid warmth at his side.

It felt good in Roy's dreams. It felt like he was being held close, a hand stroking through his hair, then along his neck. Fingers brushing over his lips before stroking along his cheek. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him like that, and he sighed, feeling as if days and days of tension was draining away as strong hands massaged along his back and shoulders.

Something tickled at the back of his neck, a hot breath, and then the scratch of stubble before soft lips kissed along his skin.

Roy suddenly realized it wasn't a dream.

He blinked awake and whipped his head around. Slade was leaning over his back, his hands under Roy's shirt, the rough callused palms caressing along his bare skin.

"Slade!" he exclaimed. "Wrong dude, bro!" He tried to extract himself from Slade's grasp, but Slade just wrapped his arms around Roy more tightly, pressing another wet kiss to Roy's neck before grumbling into Roy's ear.

"I don't think so," he said. He nipped lightly at Roy's ear, then nudged him to turn his head in the other direction.

Roy turned, and Jason was there. Watching. Biting his bottom lip in apprehension.

"Come here, Jason." Slade's voice was low and steady. "Tell him. Tell him how much you've wanted him."

"I…," Jason hesitated, but he scooted closer, using a hand to take one of Roy's hands in his own. His palm felt warm and slightly tacky.

"This is your chance," Slade crooned, and this time Roy wasn't sure if he was talking to him or Jason. The older man shifted so that he was pushing up the hem of Roy's shirt to expose his front, rubbing a slow circle over Roy's chest and abs. Then Slade moved to grab Jason's free hand and repeated the motion, pressing Jason's hand against Roy's stomach, then pushing it down and down until it rested just over Roy's crotch.

Roy shivered under the touch. "Jay?" He wasn't sure what he was asking, but he wanted this. Badly. He wanted to feel Jason's hands on him. He wanted Jason arching and moaning under him. At the same time he wanted to feel more of Slade's rough palms running against his flank. He wanted to feel the press of Slade's weight against his back, to feel more of his lips on Roy's skin.

Slade reached out and grabbed the front of Jason's shirt, dragging him forward until he was only inches away from Roy's face.

"Roy," Jason finally found his words, "I want you. I want you to be a part of this. I never let myself think about it until now, but I've always wanted you. I've always loved you."

Jason closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth to Roy's. Then Roy felt Slade pushing from behind. Pushing them together, and Roy responded by opening up, letting Jason in as they explored each other in a sloppy kiss. They licked and sucked and nipped, until Jason broke away, grabbing the hem of Roy's shirt and yanking it over his head. Suddenly Slade moved in to capturing Roy's mouth this time, as Jason proceeded to kiss a wet trail down Roy's chest, flicking his tongue over Roy's nipples, swirling his tongue over his navel, then kissing along the trail of hair that led down further as Jason worked at Roy's fly.

Roy closed his eyes, letting himself be pulled under as Slade and Jason carried him away in a torrent of desire and pleasure.

* * *

Hours later, Roy blinked awake. They'd ended up in Jason's bed at one point, and he didn't want to move. He was too warm and comfortable, his head pillowed against Jason's naked belly, the rest of him tangled between Jason's glorious thighs. It was complemented by the warm weight of Slade curled around his back, the press of naked skin to naked skin felt solid and reassuring.

Roy was about to close his eyes again when he heard it—the sound that had woken him in the first place. It was a subtle click and slide, like a window latch turning. Before he could push out of the drowsy fog that still clung to him, there was a telltale _thunk_ of someone climbing into the room.

He jolted up into a sitting position to find someone standing over them: a familiar form in black and blue. It was Nightwing, Dick, escrima in hand and mouth hanging so wide open Roy thought his jaw would hit the floor.

"What the hell?" Dick shouted, voice screeching a little too high in surprise. _"Slade???"_

Beside him, Roy heard Slade chuckle, and on the other side Jason was scrambling to pull the bedsheets over himself for cover.

Roy just put his face in his hands and mumbled, "Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed please leave us a comment or kudos!


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